Stories
by Porsheee
Summary: Three years after Levana's death, Cinder can't sleep. Parts of her story doesn't seem to fit, and now and then the dark chapters catch up to her before the good ones can save her. Luckily, that's what Kai is for—to remind her of where she's come, and who she has, and who she loves.


The clock in the corner of her eyes read 3am. Cinder wished she could turn it off, but it stayed there, a blue overlay that didn't leave her sight even when she closed her eyes. Instead of being helpful as it usually was, it instead accented the fact that, instead of sleeping, she was lying awake on her back, staring up at a ceiling filled with nothing but darkness.

Kai shifted next to her, asleep. Maybe without cyborg wiring in his brain, he didn't remember the exact date. But she did. Even when she wanted nothing more but to put it behind her, _she remembered._

Slipping from bed, she stepped out onto the smooth, wooden floor of their room. If the light were on, the room would look like the embodiment of summer mornings, polished surfaces and mirror faces and delicately patterned cloths over tabletops. Iko insisted that one was only royal once they could see it, and Cinder wasn't complaining.

But at night, it looked more like the dark side of the moon, cool floorboards and ambiguous shapes leering out of the shadows.

She couldn't turn on the light, anyway, because she wasn't going to steal Kai's sleep when they both needed it so much. Being the Empress of the Eastern Commonwealth wasn't like being Queen of Luna, but the position definitely took a toll on her—and it was even worse for Kai, who'd been Emperor longer than she'd been anything more than a broken girl fixing everything but herself.

Grabbing Kai's jacket from the back of a chair, she pulled it over her night clothes and stepped over to the balcony. She threw the doors open, letting the night air hit her like a cold splash of water from the sink. She shut the doors behind her, then stepped forward. The wind toyed with her hair, trying to pry Kai's jacket from her shoulders, making her pajama bottoms balloon out and shiver.

Looking up, she could see the stars. The light pollution from the city often made them hard to see, and clouds covered the sky more than not, but this night was strangely clear. The pinpricks beckoned her, called her name.

But it was not the stars she watched. Above her, Luna looked down, glimmering in the reflection of the sun's light. In the past, the gaze of the moon seemed more of a glare, a dare, a fear. But these days, with Levana gone, with the Republic of Luna running itself, and millions of people who still respected her for a title she shedded, it was a bittersweet look, almost of longing.

Her childhood was there, before everything went up in flames—literally. Though she couldn't remember it, she'd played with Winter on Luna. And however sadistic her mother had been, Channary had loved her. Cinder didn't remember very many things about her mother, but that was something she was sure of.

Cinder closed her eyes against the pushing, pulling breeze, leaning against the railing.

Three years. On this day. This very day.

Maybe she should go back inside, curl up next to Kai and try to fall asleep again. But she could already tell it wouldn't work, because she was not at peace with this, with anything.

Her story was a tragic one, she knew, with a happy ending. A riches to rags to riches story, really. She loved Kai, and her people—on both planets—respected her, and she had eight friends to contact for anything from moral support to the newest stupid joke, and she was happy.

But her past was part of it too. How long did it take for the present to become the past?

She'd lost many things since her childhood: happiness, the one person she had loved, freedom, an arm, identity, a leg, parts of her own brain, hope. Some things she'd found again, but they weren't the same as the originals. She could feel hope, sure, but not the first hope. She had a sense of identity now, but it would never be how it was. She loved more people now, too, but it wouldn't be same as the first, because no one could fill the gap where her stepsister had once been.

Broken. Still a little broken. Always a little broken. And a little broken was okay, but she didn't like it. Not at all.

Her eyes opened again, this time catching the stars. They spread across the horizon, a mirror of the city below, her city. From here, the lights looked almost like embers of a long gone fire, flickering but never fading.

"What are you doing up?"

Cinder turned, seeing Kai standing in the balcony doorway, blinking away sleep.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep." She tried to smile, but the effort was feeble.

He closed the door behind him, walking up to her and sliding an arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head against the side of his head, closing her eyes for the second time. His scent was stronger than that on the coat, and she felt a little better, standing, knowing he would hold her up when she wanted nothing more than to fall.

"Did something happen?" he whispered, a hand stroking her hair.

"It's just—do you know what day it is?"

"Cinder, it's three in the morning. My brain's not working."

She laughed softly against his shoulder, finally smiling for real.

"It's just that it's a specific day. I thought you might remember."

He drew back, looking at her face in fear.

"Is it your birthday? Please tell me it's not your birthday. I thought I knew what day it was, I'm sorry—"

 _Is this really the Emperor of the Eastern Commonwealth?_ Cinder thought, trying not to smirk.

"No, it's not my birthday."

He relaxed, pulling her back to his side. "Thank the stars."

"It's something else."

"Should I guess?"

"No, I already know how that'll go. We'll be here until seven, when we have to go, and you won't have gotten it at that point."

"Fair enough." His smile glowed white in the moonlight, and Cinder couldn't help but think it was even more enchanting in the shimmering cloak of a cloudless night.

"This day—three years ago—I killed Levana. The war ended. I took over. And we started to reach peace. At least, once I wasn't mostly dead."

Kai grimaced. "Please don't remind me. I'll have nightmares for a month."

"You're the one worried about nightmares?"

"Sorry. Are you okay?" He rubbed one of her shoulders, turning so that they were across from each other. His other arm looped around her waist, and she was pulled into a hug—one she was afraid to ask for, but one she needed.

"I'm okay," she said into his shirt. "Just remembering a little more than I'd like. And thinking. I'm thinking."

"Thinking? Nothing worse than thinking."

"Nothing worse than thinking."

No words were said after that; instead, they stood in each other's arms, finding warmth despite the cold, finding safety despite the inner storms threatening to sweep them off their feet and into an ocean they'd never be able to swim out of.

It felt like they stood there for hours, but when Cinder checked the time, she'd found they'd only been there for minutes.

Kai shifted, leaning back and letting cold air fall between them. They both shivered, but it allowed them to see each other's faces, allowed them to speak.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not especially," Cinder said. "But maybe tell me something that makes you happy. I can do the same. I think…I think that will make me better."

"Something that makes me happy? Okay. I can do that." He looked up at the sky behind her, thoughtful. "I was happy when I found out you'd escaped prison. Well, I was also a little panicked, but happiness—or rather, relief—did cross my mind."

"And I was a most wanted criminal! What would _every ruler ever_ say to that?"

"Nothing I'd want to hear." He nudged her nose with his, smiling. "Because I have no regrets. Not about that. Not about anything. So, what's something that makes you happy?"

She nodded up at him with her head, a loose gesture. "That."

"Cheater."

"Fine, let me think…It was nice when you proposed to me. I think that was the only time I was more excited than Iko about something—well, at first."

Kai chuckled. "She was pretty happy when we told her, huh? I love how contagious her smiles are. I think I was grinning for a week."

"She made the best bridesmaid a girl could hope for."

"And Thorne was an _interesting_ best man."

The both smiled at the memory, and the cold between them seemed to disappear in the warmth of memory.

"Okay, it's my turn. It made me happy when Scarlet baked that cake for us, and we didn't have any utensils, so we ate it with our hands. It was a mess, but it was the best cake I'd ever eaten."

"Yeah, I hadn't known Scarlet could cook so well. Hard to tell who can cook and who cannot when all anyone has to work with is ancient, canned food."

"Don't even mention that food," Kai groaned, rolling his eyes up. "I didn't complain, because I didn't want to be an annoying royal, but I was famished by the time I had a real meal."

"Speaking of a real meal, something that made me happy was the first time I had a freshly made sticky bun. Sunto was so nice to all of us, even if there were nine of us and one ate the equivalent of five starving horses."

"Those were some pretty good sticky buns. The filling was amazing. And the dough was soft. The royal chiefs could learn a thing or two from him."

"Nothing like street food. The royal chiefs would probably ruin it by trying to make it fancy."

"Probably."

"My turn again," Kai said, suddenly leaning forward. For a few seconds, he captured her lips, before pulling back and smiling at her. "You make me happy."

"That goes without saying, cheater. When I did the same thing I had to redo it." Cinder was glad he couldn't see inside her brain where, even all these years later, wiring still melted every time he was nearer than a foot.

"I'm getting cold, though," Kai said, taking a step back. "Maybe we can continue this inside?"

Cinder nodded, and they went inside, but instead of continuing, they curled up and closed their eyes, and slept—both of them.

Riches to rags to riches, indeed, but it wasn't just a story of class and wealth. It was a tale of pain, and hurt, and brokenness, yes, but it was also a tale of love, and friendship, and warm days, and warm food, and bonds that even 238,000 miles could never break.

The last thing Cinder noticed as she fell asleep was the feeling of Kai's arms around her, the rhythm of his breathing, and the subtle snap of pieces snapping into place.

Finally, after all these years, she was proud to call the story of her life her own.

And she would never let it go.


End file.
